


The Drama Of It All

by birdyhands



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (For Ursa) Nothing on Screen, Azula (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Her Death is Mentioned Though, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Hurt/Comfort, I go a little meta on the blue spirit, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Propaganda and Creative Expression are Poorly Compatible, References to Theatre, The Blue Spirit - Freeform, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko is a theatre nerd, Zuko's Childhood (Avatar), Zuko's Scar (Avatar)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26453287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdyhands/pseuds/birdyhands
Summary: The very first time his mother takes him to the theatre at age eight, Zuko is in love with it. It’s a play calledWeep for the Nightthat they attend at the Sunset City Theatre just outside of the capital city and it’sbeautiful. Zuko finds himself leaning forward over his knees, eyes wide with fascination, barely staying on his seat as he watches. He remembers the stories his mother will read to him sometimes, but even though she does the voices, it’s nothing compared to the swelling orchestra, intricate costumes, strategic lighting, and sculpted dialogue of the theatre.Zuko's love for theatre and some snippets of plays that were particularly influential to him from his very first play to The Boy in The Iceberg.Going to be doing some revisions and reposting chapter 3, you have been warned!<>
Relationships: Azula & Ozai (Avatar), Azula & Ursa (Avatar), Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Ozai & Zuko (Avatar), Ursa & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 75





	1. Weep for the Night

**Author's Note:**

> You came for theatre nerd Zuko, right? Cause that's literally the only thing you're getting from this fic.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko attends his first play with Ursa.

The very first time his mother takes him to the theatre at age eight, Zuko is in love with it. It’s a play called _Weep for the Night_ that they attend at the Sunset City Theatre just outside of the capital city and it’s _beautiful_. Zuko finds himself leaning forward over his knees, eyes wide with fascination, barely staying on his seat as he watches. He remembers the stories his mother will read to him sometimes, but even though she does the voices, it’s nothing compared to the swelling orchestra, intricate costumes, strategic lighting, and sculpted dialogue of the theatre. 

The intermission arrives, but Zuko doesn’t leave his seat even as his mother asks if he wants any snacks. Normally an outing with her is a rare opportunity for sweets, but Zuko doesn’t want to miss a thing. He watches shadows move in the tiny space under the fallen curtain as the scenery is replaced for the next act. When the lights dim again signifying that the play is about to resume, Zuko sits up straight once again, smiles excitedly at his mother, and once again loses himself in the splendid imagery and riveting plot. 

By the time the play ends, it’s well past sunset and Zuko is feeling sleepy and content. He yawns as they leave, but still chatters endlessly to his mother, recounting the best parts of the play. His mother smiles fondly at him and ruffles his hair which is slipping from its careful top knot by now. 

The next day he tells Azula all about the play. He lays on her bedroom floor after his lessons with one dramatic arm draped across his forehead as he recounts, with eyes closed, the plot.

“So then, on the day of the wedding, they trick him into marrying Pao chai, and when Pao yu realizes what has happened he’s so sad and angry that his inner fire starts to burn him with a fever and–” Zuko suddenly cuts off realizing he’s about to spoil quite a big reveal. He bites his lip considering how badly he wants to tell Azula. She’s looking at him with wide eyes, clearly worried for the characters. Zuko lets out an excited breath, “I’ll ask mom if we can go see it again and take you this time!” 

Azula lights up at the prospect. 

“And sweets?” She asks in an excited whisper.

It’s a secret that both Mother and Uncle buy them sweets when they go out. Father always says they’re bad for them and doesn’t let them have any, but Mother and Uncle are a little more relaxed. Zuko carefully closes and opens just one eye to answer her question. Lu Ten taught him how to wink a while ago and he’s still getting the hang of it. Azula beams at him again and repeats the wink flawlessly. She’s better at it than him. They both dissolve into laughter when Zuko tries to wink back again and accidentally closes both eyes. 

Two weeks later, they’re at the theatre again so that Azula can watch the play as well. Mother thought she might be too young to appreciate it or sit still, but eventually relented. Zuko spends at least half of this time watching the play looking over to see Azula’s reactions. He thinks some of the lines go over her head, but there’s other moments where he thinks some of them are going over his head too. It doesn’t matter though. Her face lights up and falls at all the right moments and can’t hold back a loud snorting laugh at one point. 

Intermission comes and this time they both accompany their mother outside to get snacks. Zuko sometimes feels like he’s not a very good older brother when Azula easily picks up bending forms that he’s spent weeks working on or remembers history that slips too easily out of Zuko’s mind, but right now, letting her steal a handful of his fireflakes after she finishes her own spiced snappers, at a play that he brought her too, which she is enjoying, he feels like a good big brother. 

In the carriage back to the palace, he and Azula squabble about how the characters could have done things better, but when they try to drag their mother into it she refuses to take sides and instead says “well, it wouldn’t have made a very good play if they had just fixed all the problems right at the beginning, now would it?” Zuko has to admit she’s right about that. 

It becomes a regular thing after that. Their mother loves the theatre and every time the one in Caldera or Sunset City puts on a new production, Zuko and Azula will accompany her there. Sometimes Azula will bug him until he agrees to help her reenact her favorite scenes along with Mai and Ty Lee. Zuko privately thinks he could make a pretty good actor if he weren’t a prince. 

When Azula’s training gets more intense after she masters the basics, she comes less, having to devote more time to her practice. Zuko should probably be putting in more practice too, he thinks, but Father’s attention is focused mostly on Azula for now and he’s able to slip away more often than her. Zuko still tells her about the plays, but she says he’s a better actor than a storyteller. She’s right. 

During one infinitely boring and too hot trip to Ember-Island, their mother takes them to see _Love Amongst the Dragons._ Zuko has seen it before, but the one that the Capital Theatre put on was… nothing like this. The director clearly has a desire for comedy where it is decidedly not supposed to be and Zuko leaves the theatre with a frown. His mother laughs softly when he complains about how ‘it’s not supposed to be a funny play!’ and ‘they didn’t even do the fountain monologue right!’ but no matter how many faults he points out in the production, his mother refuses to agree with his analysis. 

“I think it’s charming. It’s not the high-budget production you’re used to, but it’s certainly unique.”

Zuko thinks unique is much too kind of a term for what they’ve done to one of his favorite plays. When they come back to see it again by the same theatre troupe the next year, Zuko starts to suspect that his mother just likes to watch him get worked up about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters and plot snippet when Zuko is recounting it to Azula were stolen from Dream of the Red Chamber, which is a major classic in Chinese literature.


	2. Power of The Nation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ozai takes Azula and Zuko to a play.

Zuko doesn’t go to the theatre after his mother disappears. At one point Azula offers to go with him, but he thinks it might hurt too much to go without Mother. He says no and Azula yells at him and he yells back and it makes him sad because he feels like they’re not friends anymore like they used to be. He feels sad and scared all the time and Azula acts like she’s not, but Zuko can tell she’s struggling too. She becomes cold and distant and mean, and Zuko feels like he’s not a very good big brother because he doesn’t know what to do and doesn’t have the energy to try very hard. 

The idea that he’s the crown prince now, not just a prince gnaws at Zuko. He knows how to be a prince, but being next in line for the throne is a pressure he’s not quite sure how to deal with. Zuko doesn’t go to the theatre anymore, but he does plenty of acting. He feels like he’s wearing a mask more often than his own face. Because the crown prince is never tired or confused or scared. The crown prince certainly doesn’t cry. And the crown prince doesn’t indulge in silly habits like going to the theatre. 

Zuko sneaks a theatre scroll from the library one night when he can’t sleep. He lays in bed reading _Loss and the Dawn_ until the story morphs into a dream. He dreams of his mother, but it’s not the nightmares of what happened to her that have been plaguing his dreams lately. It’s a nice dream. One where he and Azula go with her to the theatre and argue about what the best scenes were and munched on sticky snacks. He wakes up with a sad smile on his face. 

It’s been just over a year since Mother disappeared and Father took the throne and Zuko hasn’t been to the theatre once. Then Father announces that they are going to go see a play. It’s called _Power of the Nation_ and it’s new. Azula agrees without any emotion in her voice. Zuko nods numbly. _This will be good_ he tells himself, but really Zuko is anxious and more than a little upset by the announcement. Nevertheless, he changes into the proper attire and prepares for the outing. 

The play is bad. It’s not just that the theatre is a little too cold or that they don’t get snacks or that there’s a strange tension between the three of them. The play, in and of itself, is bad. It’s a history, which isn’t Zuko’s favorite genre, but beyond that, there’s no protagonist. Not really at least. It’s a history of the war through Sozin and Azulon up to his father taking the throne, but there’s no conflict. It glorifies the Firelords extensively and villainizes the other nations, but the Fire Nation is always winning. They never fall behind or choose wrong. They just are the best and that’s that. 

Zuko doesn’t say anything about it, because he can’t exactly complain that they made it out as if the Firelord could do no wrong in front of the Firelord himself, but he privately thinks that the play is a load of armadillo-bear dung. 

By the time the play is _finally_ over Zuko is stiff and sore for sitting for so long with perfect posture. When he would go to the theatre with Mother Zuko relished in sprawling comfortably in his seat, rearranging limbs when it suited him. It wasn’t proper, but they had a balcony all to themselves anyway. Now Zuko feels his father’s glare on him every time his shoulders begin to slouch during the play. It’s just one more difference that makes the night unenjoyable. 

Zuko buys a scroll of the play as they leave and for once, his father seems to approve. Zuko doesn’t mention that he’s only buying it so that he can reread it and determine exactly what aspects made it so incredibly painful to watch. He wishes mother was here so he could complain about it to her. He thinks that maybe this play could actually do with a little bit of the Ember-Island Player’s touch. Far from the overly comedic performance of _Love Amongst the Dragons_ that he had seen by them, this performance was so stiff and humorless that Zuko could hardly believe it was considered entertainment. 

Azula comes to his room that night surprisingly. The scroll from the play is unfurled over Zuko’s desk, but he hasn’t been able to bring himself to concentrate. 

“You liked it then?” Azula says with one eyebrow arched and a slight smirk playing at her lips.

Zuko huffs out a laugh. 

“It wasn’t really… my type?” Zuko responds cautiously. 

Azula laughs loud and ridiculous. 

“It was so bad” she wheezes and Zuko starts laughing too. 

They sit on the rug in Zuko’s room late into the night. Azula procures a bag of fireflakes that she admits to buying while Father was distracted by Zuko buying the scroll. They eat the fireflakes and talk about the play and do ridiculous impressions of the stiff actors. 

He’s missed this. They both have. Zuko can tell by the relief in Azula’s face. When they finally run out of things to mock from the play and are both sleepy and honest, Zuko looks at Azula sadly. 

“I miss mom,” he says. Then he regrets it because Azula’s face falls. 

“Me too,” she admits tiredly, then scrunches her forehead, “I miss you too, Zuzu.”

Zuko looks up in surprise. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but it’s like you’re not you. It’s like you’re just an actor pretending to be Prince Zuko.”

Zuko knows what she’s talking about. He feels that way half the time as well, but he’s not the only one who’s been acting lately.

“You do that too you know.”

Azula nods, “yeah, I know.” 

Zuko lends Azula the scroll from _Loss and the Dawn._ It reminds him of Mother, he tells her. Azula hugs him before she goes to her room to go to bed. 

It’s not a happy night, per se, Zuko thinks later. But at least they were sad together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought, I love hearing from you guys!


	3. The Blue Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Zuko's banishment, Iroh convinces him to accompany him to an improv performance and gives Zuko the blue spirit mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies, sorry it has been a while! Here is chapter 3, some Zuko & Iroh bonding in this one cause hey, we all know Iroh is a great uncle, but Zuko is a good nephew too! (Most of the time okay, I know he can be a bit grumpy sometimes)

Zuko hasn’t left the ship once. They’re making port for the third time since his life turned into a badly written tragedy play that he would have criticized for being unrealistically cruel to the protagonist, but Zuko hardly leaves his quarters on the ship. He’s supposed to leave the wound uncovered during the day now to allow it to dry out a bit more. Something about the moisture preventing it from healing, but Zuko has yet to brave a mirror since removing the bandages. He saw his uncle’s face fall the last time he had unwound the bandages covering it, and he’s caught glimpses of it in the slightly reflective surfaces of armor and weaponry, enough to know it’s bad. 

He heeds the suggestion to leave it uncovered throughout the day but spends that time in his quarters only leaving for the evening meal after he’s rewrapped it. Zuko’s never been overly concerned about his appearances, at least, not any more than was required by his position, but the idea of the bright scarred handprint splayed across his face is enough to make him feel overwhelmed and sick. 

He reaches with careful fingers to the edge of the burn at his scalp where it’s the least intense. Even the edges where it has begun to heal feel leathery and wrong. For the hundredth time, Zuko tries to convince himself to brave a mirror. There is a small oval mirror resting face down in the heavy chest that holds most of his possessions now, and Zuko regularly takes a deep breath, tells himself he’s going to face it, and then can’t force his hands to turn it over. He doesn’t want to see it. Right now everything still feels like a nightmare or a bad play or something equally as surreal. If he sees the burn, _the handprint_ , on his face, he’s sure it will start to feel real. 

He doesn’t make it all the way to picking up the mirror this time as a light knock on his door interrupts him. The six-knock pattern is distinctly Uncle’s and Zuko takes a deep breath before calling out that he can come in. His uncle opens the door cautiously and then closes it behind him. He takes a seat on the thin rug next to Zuko before revealing his reason for visiting. 

“Nephew, tonight is the last day of the Fire Days Festival and although we are in the Earth Kingdom, many of these port cities will still have celebrations going on, I was hoping you would accompany me to a theatre production.”

The thought of leaving his rooms twists Zuko’s stomach with anxiety. He’s not ready for people to see this. To stare. His uncle sounds so hopeful though that Zuko wants to say yes, honestly seeing a play with his uncle sounds perfect right now, but having other people see him is firmly off the table. Something fearful and defensive inside of him wants to yell at his uncle for even suggesting it, but Zuko knows he will understand. 

“I’m not ready for people to see me like this.” 

He looks at his hands. Not wanting to see the sadness or disappointment in Uncle’s eyes. 

“Prince Zuko,” his uncle says in that warm heavy voice that he always uses when he’s going to say something that he believes with all his heart, but knows his audience will not want to hear, “you have nothing to be ashamed of. You are a beautiful prince and that scar does not change it. However, I am not surprised you don’t want anyone to see it yet, if I am not mistaken you have not even seen it completely yourself and I imagine it will be a very painful thing for you to acknowledge.” He puts a hand on Zuko’s knee, waits a moment, and then sighs in defeat, “you know how I am with shopping, Zuko, I believe at the last port I picked up a theatre mask with the intent of wearing it should the chance to attend the festival occur, but it seems it may be too small for my face.” 

Zuko knows it’s a load of armadillo-bear dung. The things his uncle likes to play off as happy accidents are almost always well thought out plans of his own design. He’s still feeling low from letting his thoughts linger too long on the brand across his face, but the idea that he could attend the festival _and_ not have to let anyone see his face is a rather nice prospect. 

“What mask is it?” he finally asks, meeting his uncle’s eyes with a tired smile. 

His uncle returns the small smile with a large toothy one of his own, “it is the Blue Spirit,” he says happily and Zuko can see that his uncle is trying to impart some deeper wisdom here, but whatever character parallels he’s trying to draw are lost on Zuko. Whatever he has in common with the fictional spirit child of Raava and Vaatu forced to reconcile the good and evil forces within themselves in order to prevent conflict from destroying the spirit world must be deeply buried because Zuko can’t think of what it could possibly be.

“Okay, I guess I could accompany you as the Blue Spirit,” Zuko says with a shrug and his uncle’s eyes twinkle happily. 

“I will go get the mask for you, we will still have some time before the festivities start.”

Zuko had been surprised that there would be a theatre production at the festival here. The Fire Days Festival is rarely so well put together in terms of entertainment and port cities are generally raucous and rowdy anyways. 

Apparently, Zuko’s definition of ‘theatre production’ has simply been too narrow up to this point, however. Uncle has not taken Zuko to a play exactly, it’s some sort of improv show, where the actors have no idea what they’re going to be acting out until the audience has shouted some prompt at them and after a silent moment of contemplation one of the actors will take the lead dragging everyone into an often ridiculous scene full of original dialogue and makeshift props (half of which are items briefly stolen from members of the audience). Zuko is also fairly certain that the entire company has had at least a few drinks earlier in the night and the smallest of them stumbles several times in their enthusiastic participation. 

Zuko finds himself relaxing behind the mask like he hasn’t in a long time. Everything about this is so different than attending the theatre with his mother. They’re outside and the surrounding noise is so loud that he can’t always hear the actors, there’s no plot structure to the makeshift scenes, and the audience is loud and participating in a way that would have been quite rude at the type of performances Zuko is used to, but the chaos seems to make Zuko’s life feel calmer in contrast and he finds himself enjoying the night without reservation. 

Zuko buys fireflakes, which he lifts his maks slightly to snack on, from one of the vendors on the street and Iroh buys an Earth Kingdom sticky bun as they make their way back towards the ship as people begin to grumble about having to be up too early the next day and make their way sleepily home. 

When they’re back within the silent ship, most of the crew probably still out enjoying themselves, Uncle asks if Zuko wants any tea and in a moment of agreeability, Zuko asks if he has any Lapsang Souchong. His uncle wrinkles his nose at the choice (black tea? At this hour?) but procures the smokey smelling leaves all the same. 

They sit for long enough that the tea grows strong and lukewarm and talk about idle things. When the tea is finished, Uncle still looks reluctant to leave, and if he’s being honest, Zuko is relishing his presence here as well. 

“Uncle?” Zuko finally ventures, eyes trained on his own knees, “how bad does it look really?” 

Iroh breathes deeply and Zuko can tell he’s not quite sure what to say. That must mean it’s pretty bad. 

“I want to see it, I just…” a short silence stretches on, “I also don’t.”

“Would you like me to show you in the mirror? So you don’t have to see it alone?”

Zuko thinks on it for a moment, but it seems like this is maybe the best way to just get it over with. He nods.

When his uncle lifts up the small oval, Zuko sees Iroh’s face first, focuses on his uncle in the mirror, and then slowly slides his gaze over to see the right and then, agonizingly slowly, the left. It’s like a crater over his eye. The skin and muscle are burned away so much that there’s an indentation and there are traitorously unmarred slivers between where each of his father’s fingers had rested that make it just a little to clear that the mark is a handprint. Zuko just stares for a long moment before he realizes that he’s crying a little. 

When he lets himself fall back against his uncle’s shoulder when he finally looks away from his own reflection, his uncle holds him tightly for what feels like a long time. 

_“For all that this world has cursed you, you are as beautiful and remarkable as ever. Your strength though unenviable is a wonder to behold.”_

Zuko furrows his brow for a moment. It’s from _Loss and The Dawn,_ the play that reminds Zuko so much of his mother. Zuko half wishes his uncle would stop trying to draw character parallels between him and the underdog anti-hero redemption arc characters of Zuko’s favorite dramas, but the words are comforting all the same so he lets them wash over him while his uncle rubs lopsided circles on his back and Zuko feels sleep rapidly approaching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought, as always, thank you for reading:)


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